New Employment
Log Title: New Employment Characters: Ar-Gent Silverfinger, Centuritron (Heavytread, Runway, Windshear) Location: Sonic Canyons Date: August 21, 2019 TP: King of Cats TP Summary: The three Minicons that make Centuritron are down on their luck, alone, and in need of a new job. Ar-Gent is more than happy to take advantage. Category:2019 Category:King of Cats TP Category:Logs As logged by '' Ar-Gent Silverfinger '''Log session starting at 11:31:03 on Wednesday, 21 August 2019.' Sonic Canyons - Southern Hemisphere - Cybertron The Sonic Canyons are located on the southern side of Cybertron. The deafening sound of the planet's underground machinery wells up from their depths and loudly echoes up to the surface. The noise in turn causes a constant deluge of scrap metal to come tumbling down, making the canyons' direct environment particularly inhospitable. Nonetheless, densely populated settlements have risen, and the Transformers living there, such as the Decepticon Brawl, have adapted perfectly. Among the rest of the population, the people of this heavily industrialized section of Cybertron are characterized by their toughness, their no-nonsense attitude and their loud, loud voices. '' 'Having been driven from their home of Valvolux by their own ambition and hubris, the Mini-Con Assault Team have found temporary refuge in the Sonic Canyons. Heavytread has set up a small camp. He stands nearby on the edge of the cliff face, gazing out over the chasm with his rifle resting over one shoulder. ' '''Runway flies in from the Hydrax Canyons. "It's no good," he reports to Heavytread upon landing, forcing the tankcon out of his reverie. "The Cons still control Hydrax," Runway continues. "We're not getting away that way. And I'm not sure we'll be welcome on the Neutral Territories." Whisper-silent, Windshear (not the old OC, and not the Valvolux militia captain) glides into the small camp. "We got more immediate problems," she interrupts. "I'm pretty sure I saw a pack of Sharkticons coming this way. They must be coming up from the Rust Sea. I'm not sure how many, but if there's a pack of them, we might be in trouble." She looks pointedly at Heavytread, the only one of the trio who can't fly. Robot land sharks are, indeed, headed towards the small team. Some scuttle across the ground, while others burrow into the rock and metal beneath, hidden except for the vibration of the ground where they pass. Meanwhile, AR-GENT SILVERFINGER, gentlemech spy, slips invisibly through the Sonic Canyons. No need to be quiet here- the ambient noise more than covers up any footsteps. No, here he uses his nifty spy tech to also make his way closer to the minicon team unobserved. Heavytread frowns. "I'm sure it's nothing Centuritron can't handle," he says, checking his gun as he turns to face the direction in which the sharks are coming. Sure enough, the movements of the sharks combined with the sound of the canyons make sneaking up on this team child's play. ' '"That's what you said about Knightmare," Runway scowls. "And look at where we are now!" He readies his twin-turbine cannon and steps next to Heavytread, backing him up. ''' '''Windshear transforms back into stealth copter mode, deploying a not-very-stealthy chin-mounted minigun. << Let's just be ready for these guys, OK? >> she radios the others to be heard over the canyons. << They're likely to be a lot of them, but they're dumb. We can probably corral them over the cliffs if we work together. >> ' Ar-Gent Silverfinger steps out of the shadows behind the team. "An excellent plan, though rather optimistic. Once they catch a scent, I fear these sharks are relentless in their pursuit. But I do know of a hidden place nearby." Heavytread wheels around in shock and almost opens fire instinctively. Only Runway's out-thrust hand stops him. "Wait," Runway says. "I think I know who this is." His amber optics narrow. "Why are you here, and more importantly, why would you offer to help us? What's in it for you?" << Uh, guys, >> Windshear radios. << Better make this fast. I think they're coming. Should we merge?" Ar-Gent Silverfinger smirks. "The name is Silverfinger. Ar-Gent Silverfinger. And you've had a hard time of it lately, haven't you? A public defeat, humiliation, all your plans turned to dust." He half bows and gestures behind him. "But we really don't have much time to debate, do we?" Indeed, the leading sharks are coming into plain view, chomping their pointy teeth as they waddle-run forwards. << Alright, guys! We're running out of time here. Let's vote - fight sharks, or flee with the obvious villain? >> Windshear radios. ' '"You'd actually be surprised at my answer this time," Heavytread replies, raising his voice over the sound of the nearby canyons. ' '"Fine!" Runway says. "Let's merge, then, and see where this goes." Heavytread transforms, forming a set of legs and feet. Runway transforms and combines with Heavytread, forming arms and a torso. Finally, Windshear lands on top of the unlikely combiner, forming shoulders and a head. Once more, Centuritron looks around with a smirk. "OK," he says to Ar-Gent. "Where to?" Ar-Gent Silverfinger beams. "This way!" And he leads off with a Hollywood lope that nevertheless covers ground fairly quickly. He goes right up to the edge of the canyon, then down a path that is just a ledge leading into the canyon. It's wide enough, but a daunting prospect for anybody who has issues with heights. At some seemingly random point, he stops, running his fingers along the surface of the wall to his right before pressing a hidden stud. A piece of the canyon wall shudders and slides away, revealing a dark passage within. "Found this earlier today. Not much, but it's shelter." Centuritron is 2/3 flyer and 3/3 overconfident, so he follows Ar-Gent down with nary a pause. "You just happened upon a secret passage in the Sonic Canyons earlier today, just when we need it?" he calls out laughingly. "Wow, you're just the lucky guy we needed to meet!" Sensing a trap, Centuritron strolls in anyway, because '3/3 overconfident'. "So, are you onna those Junkions, Silverfinger Ar-Gent Silverfinger?" Centuritron asks aggressively. Ar-Gent Silverfinger waits while Centuritron goes inside, then lets the door slide shut, plunging the room into darkness. It is interrupted briefly by Ar-Gent lighting one of his enercigs before the mech strolls over to a switch. He flicks it, and a series of dim industrial lights flick on overhead, one at a time. "I'll admit I've been keeping an eye out for you specifically, so my being in the area is not much of a coincidence. You do have something I'm interested in." He takes out his pack of enercigs and offers it to Centuritron. "As for Junkion, why yes! I do hail from that particular planet." Centuritron accepts the enercig, gazing around the underground lair with interest. "Any reason you have been keeping an optic on me, specifically?" he asks. "Not enough bold, fearless leaders on Junkion? Because I do happen to be available for management opportunities currently," he snickers, making no comment on the aforementioned defeat and public humiliation. Ar-Gent Silverfinger chuckles back, strolling deeper into the lair. It seems to be some old transport or mining tunnel that's been neglected like much of Cybertron's infrastructure. Presumably it comes out somewhere else, but who knows with all the disruption this planet's been through? "Ah, well. Positions in management are contingent on success on the ground within our corporate structure. That is, we believe strongly in promotion from within the company. No, my interest is in your body." Centuritron had started strolling with Ar-Gent, a pleasant smile on his face as he enjoyed the enercig. Until Ar-Gent mentioned his body. Cent stops quickly, instinctively summoning his three-part cannon into hand almost faster than he could think it. He takes a step back, swinging the massive weapon around and pointing it at the Junkion leader. "OK," he says seriously. "You're going to explain yourself. Right now." His jocular tone is gone. Ar-Gent Silverfinger pauses and leans against the wall. "It's simple enough. While a modular mentality is quite common in Junkion technology, actual gestalts are nowhere to be seen. That's technology I don't have. An advantage lost. And here you are. A fully functioning example, in fun size. A few days to let my best men examine you, and I could have another arrow in the quiver." Centuritron narrows his amber optics. "So, this is about the acquisition of technological innovation. Valvolux has the lock on Mini-Con combination technology. You don't know the half of it. Knightmare doesn't even know what she's sitting on - she thinks we're just subjects for her little shadowplay against the Decepticons. But, yeah. For the right price, I could let you examine me, and more." He gestures to his own chest. "As you can see, I'm fully-functional. Not some temporary monster like Devastator. I'm a true gestalt." Centuritron beams with pride, lowering his cannon. Ar-Gent Silverfinger hmms. "Well, it sounds like I came to the right place! I've been trying to pry away a few Decepticons, but they've been surprisingly reluctant to betray each other. I'm disappointed, given their reputation." With the gun no longer pointed at him, Ar-Gent begins to move again, deeper into the tunnel. "The right price, eh? And what is it you want? Money? Power? Fame? A brand new salad shooter?" Centuritron falls in alongside Ar-Gent once more, slinging his cannon over his shoulder. "Well, I obviously hold no loyalty to the people of Valvolux so long as they choose that traitor over me as their leader," Centuritron says flatly. "I'm not sure of what salad is or why I'd need to shoot it, but I wasn't completely kidding about needing a job. I was almost ready to turn to the Decepticons themselves, but if you can offer a better deal, then... maybe I can be of more use than just walking industrial espionage." Ar-Gent Silverfinger chuckles. "Business is booming, my friend. We have multiple locations, and while entry level jobs are humble, the opportunities for advancement are legion. Though I'll warn you- it's a cut-throat environment, and you'll have to watch your back." He stops by a button and presses it, and a portion of the wall chugs open to reveal rows of sharks with gleaming teeth. "Ah, here we are. My faithful minions." He gives Centuritron a smug smirk. Centuritron looks over at Ar-Gent and returns the smirk, not at all surprised to discover the sharks were in Silverfinger's employ. "I think I can handle it," he chuckles. "When do we start?" Log session ending at 14:15:17 on Wednesday, 21 August 2019.